


There Was a Farmhouse...

by monogramsalarm (orphan_account)



Category: Tuck Everlasting - Miller/Tysen/Shear & Federle
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 02:57:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8311201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/monogramsalarm
Summary: Miles never thought he'd go back to his old home with the grandfather clock. But things change, and change can lead to unexpected findings.





	

_ Miles woke up, hearing an unfamiliar silence in the house. His back was sore from having slept on the couch the night before. It felt right to give Rose some space after their argument. She’d caught onto what Miles and his family had become; demanding to know if he was possessed or had sold his soul to the devil. Miles thought they’d ended on a good note. She had seemed to calm down, and he was willing to do anything for her and Thomas’ safety. Miles rose from the old couch, stretching his arms above his head. He decided that Rose could probably benefit from having breakfast in bed.  _

_ He walked to the kitchen, taking note of the time on the grandfather clock in the hallway. At half past nine, Rose should have already been up. But he figured she was tired after the night of arguing that had occurred. He made a small plate of pancakes, carrying them upstairs. _

_ "Rose? I’m sorry about last night, are you doing alright?” Miles slowly opened the door to their bedroom, nearly dropping his plate at the sight before him. The bed was empty. The drawers of their dresser were ajar, the entire room swept of her belongings. Miles stopped, setting down her breakfast. She was gone, but a small note was left on her vanity. Miles walked over to it, nearly tripping over his own feet in his stupor. He picked it up with trembling hands, barely able to read the hastily-written note. All it said was “I’m sorry.” No explanation, no hint of why she was gone, nothing. Miles crumpled it into a ball, rushing to Thomas’ room. Maybe, just maybe she had left him there. Miles hoped he wasn’t left alone. _

_ “Thomas?!” He cried out, swinging the door open. Thomas’ room looked much like his own, only a few items of clothing strewn on the floor. The worst had happened; she took Thomas. Without even saying goodbye. Miles picked up the small outfit, clutching it to his chest as his eyes blurred with tears. Even in his worst nightmares, he never thought this would happen. He and Rose promised to love each other unconditionally. She broke that promise, and for what reason? Because she was scared of what she didn’t understand? He broke down into sobs, knowing his life could never get worse than that. _

_ Miles knew he had to go tell his family what had happened, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the house. Still holding onto Thomas’ clothes, he walked down the stairs, feeling completely and utterly lost. Miles’ family was his entire life. There was so much he would never be able to see. His son would grow up, but to Miles, he would be seven forever. The only sounds in the house were his own sobs and the grandfather clock in the downstairs hall. The ticks began to grate on his nerves. With each second that passed, Miles felt as if the old clock were mocking him, blatantly pointing out every second without his family by his side. _

_ Setting Thomas’ clothes aside, Miles clenched his jaw. Through the tears, he made his way down the hall, suddenly overcome with rage. He slammed his fist into the face of the clock, shattering the glass. He noticed the lack of pain as the glass stabbed through his hand. Miles collapsed beside it, kneeling in the shards of glass as the clock stopped. He buried his face in his hands, sobbing for everything his family would never be. He would no longer be a husband, no longer a father… In just a few short hours, everything he was living for had been taken away. _

Miles pushed open the door that had been covered with nearly two centuries’ worth of ivy and other plant overgrowth. Those familiar emotions overcame him as he stepped through the house that lay abandoned in the middle of the forest that had grown around it. The tension in the air burst when his golden retriever bounded in, sitting obediently at his feet. Miles chuckled lightly, bending down to scratch her ears.

“I can’t believe I came back here…” Miles said quietly, looking around. He didn’t dare go upstairs, but instead was distracted by the note on the broken clock that was covered in weeds that had sprouted up through the floorboards. He walked over to it, carefully taking each step in order to not fall through the weakened wood floors. Reaching out for the note, he took notice of the date on top of it.  _ September 15th, 1846.  _ The note started out with “Dear Papa,” and Miles froze, unable to read any more of it. He knew he couldn’t lose it in this house again. He folded it and hastily shoved it in his pocket, deciding that he could read it once he finished driving to his parents’ new place in Concord. Miles left the house in a hurry, whistling for Aurora to follow him. He got into his car and finally let himself go, pulling the wrinkled, aged piece of paper from his pocket as Aurora settled into the passenger seat beside him. Miles began to read it aloud to himself, not able to focus on anything else.

“Dear Papa,” he started again, already feeling the lump in his throat forming. “I didn’t think you would be here, but I hope you’ll find this. I don’t believe what Ma told me. I’ve convinced myself that you couldn’t have been bad, despite what she says. I remember you being a good parent. Not even her horror stories about your run in with the Devil himself could take that from me.” Miles cleared his throat and wiped his eyes, trying to stop the flow of tears. “I have my own children now, I know you would have loved them. My daughters Diana and Bette are nearly grown themselves, but little Miles is still young.” Miles froze as his voice broke with emotion, feeling as if someone has just punched him in the gut. Forcing himself to continue, he wiped more tears on the sleeve of his sweater. “I hope you’re okay, wherever you are. I’ll always love you, just know that. Forever your son, Thomas Tuck.” Miles managed to choke out the last few sentences before bursting into tears, holding the note close to him. Aurora put her paw on his leg and nudged him with her nose worriedly. Miles sniffed, smiling at her. “I’m fine. These are happy tears.” He wiped his eyes again, tucking the note into his pocket once more as she lay her head on his lap, stretched out across the two seats. He chuckled, rubbing her ears as he thought about the note.

Thomas hadn’t just forgotten him. Hell, he’d even named his son after him. He couldn’t believe that the note had been there for over a century, waiting for him. Miles felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders as he started the car. He couldn’t wait to show his parents what he’d found. After years of worry, wondering what had become of Thomas, he finally had closure. Miles didn’t have to think about Thomas hating him for his whole life; he knew now that Thomas had loved him and didn’t believe what Rose had told him. Miles let out a deep breath as he drove to his parents place, feeling the calm that the resolution had given him. They may have never seen each other again, but they were both in each other’s thoughts and that’s all that mattered.


End file.
